


Extrapolations

by NairobiWonders



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Platonic Joanlock - Freeform, Romantic Joanlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6854764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NairobiWonders/pseuds/NairobiWonders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few vignettes based on things said during the course of the season four finale that sparked my interest. Spoilers of sorts for A Difference in Kind. Previously posted on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do You Love Me?

Sherlock rapidly made his way down the stairs, marched determinedly to where Joan stood preparing lunch, and stared at her until she looked up.

“Do you love me?” His tone was accusatory and brisk.

Joan squinted in confusion at his question, “What?”

He shifted in an agitated manner from foot to foot. “It’s a simple question Watson. Do you love me? Yes or no?” His head jutted forwards, his stance spoke of anger and she could not reconcile his demeanor with his question.

She put down the knife, “Well, not at the moment, I don’t.” Joan’s hand moved to her waist as she surveyed him. “What’s this about?”

Sherlock impatiently turned on his heel and paced away from her. “Both members of my so called "immediate family” have stated that you are the person I care about most in the world. If my addlepated brother and Cthulhu of a father can see so easily through me, well … I … I… “ he started to lose steam and became aware of the embarrassing nature of the subject he had opened.

Joan took pity on him. "Sherlock!” Her tone caused him to whip around and face her. The man looked scared. She picked up the plates and took them to the table, “Here. Sit down and eat your lunch.”

Relieved, Sherlock moved to the cabinets and brought down two glasses setting them on the table. Joan came behind him with the water pitcher and filled them. They sat and ate in silence for a few moments.

Joan side-eyed him and pressing her lips together into a smile, shook her head at him. Their eyes held for a moment. That was all he needed. He returned the thin lipped smile and turned his attention to the plate before him.


	2. Sprinkles

“Hmm…” She said nothing else.

Sherlock looked down at his partner and followed her line of sight. Down the lamplit street Marcus and Lin walked away conversing and laughing. "You are not happy with the results of your social experiment. I thought that was your desired result?“

"I’m quite happy. I just didn’t expect such instant results. I mean look at them. They’re holding hands. They just met. We’ve known each other how many years and we have never held hands …”

Sherlock fidgeted uncomfortably. “Do I detect a tone of jealousy? Long buried feelings for Marcus perhaps? I told you Watson this dinner setup could blow up in your face …”

“No. Don’t be silly. Not jealousy…. Envy perhaps.” Joan’s voice took on a wistful air. "They’re both young and open … Getting to see where life will take them…“

"Come now Watson, you speak as if we’re ancient. There are still plenty of new and exciting adventures in the future.”

“I suppose…” Joan turned and started walking. He caught up with a step and they walked side by side for awhile.

Sherlock thought she still looked less than chipper. "There’s a gelato place on the next corner. I’m in the mood for a cone. Would you like one?“

Joan saw through him immediately; she beamed at him. "Yes. Two scoops?”

“Naturally.” Their steps fell in sync. He spoke again, his tone a bit more intimate. "We have held hands you know … Remember the Atkins case, the field investigation?“

Joan snorted a laugh, "Grabbing my hand to pull me out of manure doesn’t count.”

“I held on to your hand I recall as we ran from the rather irate bull whose pasture we had trespassed upon…”

“That was over two years ago … How did you even remember that?”

He shrugged; embarrassed, he walked a little faster. Joan kept up. Her hand brushed his and she wrapped her index finger round his. “Can we get sprinkles too?”

Sherlock’s large hand moved and wrapped around hers. "You can be such a child.” He mockingly snarled at her.

“Me?” Her tone lightly indignant. “Me? I’m the responsible one. You are the child in this relationship….”

“I beg to differ …” They walked on amiably arguing hand in hand towards Fratelli’s Gelato.


	3. Safe House

“I tried to give it to Watson, but she turned it down.” Sherlock led Lin and Joan through the living room towards the outdoor balcony of the safe house apartment.

“No way!” Lin stared incredulously at Joan. “I think there’s been a mistake. You and I cannot be related.”

Joan scrunched her face at her half sister, “Very funny.”

Sherlock watched the interactions of the new-found siblings, ticking off the similarities and differences in gestures, stance, word usage and mentally catalogued them for his nature versus nurture study. The ring of his phone interrupted him. "Excuse me, I need to take this.“ He strode towards one of the back bedrooms. "Yes, Mason. What did you learn ….”

“Seriously, Joan, why didn’t you jump at this place. It’s a hundred times better than that old brownstone and he was offering it to you for free!” Her eyes scanned her sister’s face.

“I like that old brownstone. Its home. Living with Sherlock makes life easier. We work better together. I’d spend most my time there even if I moved.” The way Lin was watching her made Joan slightly uncomfortable and she turned to walk back into the living room.

“You like him.” Lin spoke as if it were a revelation.

Joan rolled her eyes, "Of course I like him. He’s my friend, my roommate. We’ve been through a lot. He’s a good guy, fun to be around believe it or not …”

“Yeah and the fact that you can practically bounce a quarter off that cute little butt of his doesn’t hurt…” Lin took in Joan’s shocked expression and it suddenly dawned on her. “Oh my god, you "like” like him!“ She could hardly contain her glee. "Don’t worry, he’s not my type. You can have him.”

"Lin! Stop it. He’ll hear you.” Joan hissed at her sister.

Lin sidled up and bumped shoulders with her. She put her arm around Joan. “Come on, sis. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone….. You need to loosen up.”

Joan leaned in towards her sister, with a tiny smile on her face, she whispered, "He does have a cute butt, doesn’t he. And those tattoos …“

"What? Tattoos? Where?” Lin was all ears.

Sherlock’s voice boomed into the room before him. “Mason thinks he’s uncovered information about the remains of Vikner’s network …” His voice trailed off as he took in the conspiratorial stance and guilty looks of the two women, “Did I miss something?”


	4. Movie Night

Sherlock walked into the kitchen in time to catch Watson seasoning a large bowl of popcorn.

“Ah, good. Thought I smelled popcorn. We’re starting a bit early, aren’t we?” He went to refrigerator and retrieved the water pitcher. “What cinematic masterpiece are we viewing tonight?” He poured a glass of water for himself and Watson.

Joan looked up from her task. "We,“ she emphasized the word with the lift of an eyebrow, "aren’t viewing anything.” She picked up the bowl, took her glass of water from his hand and started out the kitchen.

“Oh?” He wasn’t sure he understood. He put his glass of water down and followed her. “Then why the large bowl of popcorn?” She kept walking and didn’t answer him. “It is our movie night is it not? Or … or do you have a guest perhaps…. in which case I can occupy myself otherwise I suppose ….” He sounded a bit hurt as he trailed behind her.

Joan turned at the foot of the stairs and faced him. “You made it quite clear the other night that you think the movies I choose are bad. So, you are excused ….” She seemed rather upset he thought.

“When did I say this?”

Joan sighed, and motioned with one full hand and then the other as she spoke. “You diffused the bomb, you said the movies I think are good, are in fact, bad.”

He nodded and stared at her still rather perplexed, “Yes. They are.”

Joan grimaced at him and with a swift turn started climbing the stairs.

Sherlock stood processing her words and her actions, attempting to ferret out an explanation …. she was angry at him, no doubt about that …. It took him a second or two before …

His head whipped up. “Oh!” He quickly followed her up the stairs, “Watson, hold on… Hold on…. You misunderstand.”

Joan reached the first floor landing and spoke over her shoulder at him. “No. Your comment seems pretty straightforward to me.”

“Wait.” He reached out and took hold of the back of her elbow, an act that caused her to come to an abrupt stop. She looked down at where his hand lay on her arm and menacingly raised her eyes to his.

Sherlock immediately removed his hand. “Your taste in movies is not necessarily the same as mine and well, honestly, we have watched some atrocious films …. I mean "Gambit” … Really? …“ He shrugged a shoulder in distaste.

Joan squinted at him, "You are doing a very poor job of explaining yourself …”

Sherlock took the bowl and glass carefully from her hands and motioned her to the red hall sofa. “Sit, please.” Grudgingly, she sat and he perched beside her.

“I’m listening.” Joan waited to be disappointed.

Sherlock put the glass on the floor and set the bowl between them. He cleared his throat. “I … I enjoy our movie nights not because of the films … but because … ” this was harder to get out than he imagined….. “Well, because I enjoy spending time with you.” He took a breath and snuck a look in her direction.

With the cork removed, the words poured quietly out of him. "Forgive my saying so, but you are not an easy person to read. Watching the movies you choose, watching them with you, gives me insight. I get to see and share what makes you laugh or brings you to tears … “ his voice was even softer now and he was quickly losing focus as he stared into her eyes. "I get a glimpse of who you are deep inside and I get to sit in your company for no other reason than to … than to ….”

He was suddenly embarrassed by his honesty. Sherlock grabbed a handful of popcorn, and stood. “My apologies. Enjoy your movie. I have some reading to catch up on.”

“Sherlock!” She stopped him in his tracks. “I have "Conspiracy Theory” cued up on the laptop in my room. … Join me?“


	5. R&R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not based on anything in particular from the episode. I just felt the need for more. Fluff and joanlock

They, half propped up on pillows, slept blissfully side by side. The laptop between them streamed on. The screen's light played across their faces and cast shadows on the wall behind them; the villain threatened and the hero screamed, but they slept on. Comfortable and finally able to relax for the first time in months, they'd drifted off fifteen minutes into the film that was now nearing its conclusion. 

The muffled noise of a phone ringing roused Sherlock from his slumber. Joan, trained by years of living with him, was able to ignore the sound. He dug his hand beneath the small mound of pillows she reclined upon in search of the offending contraption. It stopped ringing and he stopped searching. He raised his eyes to find her watching him through partially opened lids.

"Hi," she drawled drowsily. 

"Hi," he answered guiltily for no other reason than he was close to her. 

Her eyes drooped and he was left content to watch her drift off to sleep. His fierce protector, his stalwart friend housed inside the small frame of this woman who had come to mean everything to him. He studied her delicate features, re-memorizing the scatter of her freckles cross her nose... her cheeks ... Sherlock's head rested gently on her pillow; his eyes closed .... And he drifted ... his Watson.... He wondered if she thought of him as her Holmes....

"Why don't you turn off the movie?" Her words were breathy, slurred with sleep. 

He opened his eyes to hers "Mmm." He reached and closed the lap top aiming to place it on the floor beside the bed. He swung his legs around to get up at the same time.

"Where are you going .... stay ...." Eyes still half closed, she reached out with one bare arm and waved him back to her.

Sherlock hesitated. He set the laptop down and moved to kneel beside her on the bed. When it came, his voice was barely audible, "Watson ... I don't know if we should ... I mean ..."

Joan scrunched her face at him, and grabbed at his arm. "No. Stay and sleep..." Her eyes opened wide at him, "No hanky panky..." And she tugged at his hand.

Sherlock couldn't help but smile at her. He moved towards her as she removed superfluous pillows for both of them, and crawling underneath the covers, she held them open for him.

Sherlock got in. "Really Watson, a woman of your erudition using the term hanky panky?" He tsked and chided as he lay down beside her. Joan scooted towards him and lay her head on his chest, her arm across him, hand flat against his body. He continued, "We must work on a less juvenile vocabulary for you. We are adults and ..." 

"Shut up, Sherlock." She snuggled into him as his arms wrapped around her, bodies fitting like puzzle pieces.

He laid his cheek on her head, feeling the silken glide of her hair, and whispered, "Alright?" He bravely stroked her back gently with his fingertips. 

She sighed and relaxed in his arms, "Yes."


End file.
